


Clearing the Air

by Kiraly



Category: A Redtail's Dream (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 20:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: Little Hare finds a way to become human so he can reunite with his friend. But friendship and feelings are much more complicated in the human world.





	Clearing the Air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TereziMakara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TereziMakara/gifts).

> Many thanks to thanks to Laufey for helping me figure out a human name for Little Hare, and even more thanks to Yuuago for beta-reading both versions of this story when I got stuck and needed advice. It would not be *nearly* as long or fleshed-out otherwise. :)

There was a boy in the clearing.

Little Hare watched him from the underbrush, carefully hidden behind a screen of leaves. It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ want  _ to be seen. He’d been waiting for months, ever since that incident with the auroras. He’d haunted the edge of the village, listening for a familiar voice, a familiar song. All through the dark of winter he’d waited, until the snow turned to slush and his coat darkened to grey. Until today, when he heard someone in the forest playing a kantele.

Humans were different outside of dreams. He’d been told that over and over when he first got permission to visit their world on his own. They were sharper, harder. They would notice an animal who acted strange, one who was too friendly. Some of them wouldn’t like it. 

_ They’re dangerous. Humans are not your friends.  _

Little Hare didn’t believe that anymore. Not since he met Tuomi.

From the moment they’d met in the dream, Little Hare had felt a connection. They were alike: both the youngest in their families, weighed down with other people’s expectations and constantly told what to do. Everyone treated them like useless children. But they were more than that, they both knew it, and they recognized it in each other. 

But that was the dream, and this was the waking world. What if Tuomi didn’t recognize him? What if he did, but didn’t want to continue the friendship outside the dream? Little Hare couldn’t speak like a human. Tuomi couldn’t hear like a hare. Would it still work?

So he watched. Waited. He listened to the music, familiar fingers teasing out a tune on new strings. He thought about the dream and how none of this would be happening if that stupid fox had done his job properly. And then he got an idea.

* * *

“I need a favor.”

Puppy-Fox looked up from the basket of blueberries he was filling. Then he looked down. “Oh, it’s you.”

Little Hare wrinkled his nose. It wasn’t  _ his  _ fault he was small. Hares were supposed to be that way. “Yes, it’s me. And I need your help.”

“Ugh, why does everyone want something from me?” Puppy-Fox rolled his eyes. “Leave me alone, I’m busy. Why should I help you?”

“Because you  _ owe  _ me,” Little Hare said. “I was there for your little mess too, remember? You’ve been picking berries and washing dishes for everyone else, now it’s my turn.”

Puppy-Fox sighed. “No one is ever going to let me forget that, are they? One little mistake.” 

_ “Little  _ mistake?!”

“Okay, okay, a medium-sized mistake,” Puppy-Fox grumbled. He stuffed a pawful of blueberries into his mouth. “Fine. What do you want?”

Was it really going to be that easy? “I want to turn into a human.”

Bits of blueberry sprayed everywhere.  _ “What?!”  _ Puppy-Fox coughed. “Why would you want to do  _ that?”  _

“I just want to,” Little Hare said. He didn’t have to explain himself to a second-rate fox spirit. “Will you help me or not?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I  _ can’t,”  _ Puppy-Fox said. He picked a piece of chewed blueberry out of his bucket. “What makes you think I can do that?”

“There’s a dog running around that village in human form,” Little Hare said, “And he was a hare when I met him in your stupid dream. Are you saying that wasn’t you?” He might be small, but he wasn’t an idiot. 

“It wasn’t! And I don’t want to talk about those two. Or the dream. So go away and leave me alone.”

Little Hare went still. “So you won’t help me?”

“No!”

“Fine.” He turned his back on Puppy-Fox. He could feel his heart racing, and not from fear. “Be that way.” His hind leg lashed out, connecting solidly with the bucket. It went flying. “Oops.”

“Hey!” Puppy-Fox jumped to his feet. “Get back here!”

But Little Hare was already speeding away. He should have known better. The trickster fox wasn’t reliable; the aurora incident had proved that. But he’d thought that maybe Puppy-Fox knew some magic he didn’t, some way of getting him back to his friend. He’d  _ hoped _ . Now that his hopes were dashed, all he could do was keep running.

“I’m—oof—gonna kick your jackrabbit ass—huff—slow down!” Puppy-Fox was chasing him.

“Fat chance, fatty fox!” 

_ “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?”  _

Little Hare skidded to a halt. He knew that voice. There was no running from it. A second later, Puppy-Fox slammed into him from behind. “Oww!”

_ “Oh, it’s you. I should have known.”  _ Kokko looked down at them.  _ “Aren’t you in enough trouble from last time, Puppy-Fox?”  _

Puppy-Fox shoved away from Little Hare. “It’s not  _ my  _ fault! He started it! Kicking over my bucket, after I was working sooooo hard to collect all those blueberries for Bear—”

_ “Eating  _ blueberries, you mean,” Little Hare grumbled. “And it  _ is _ all your fault. If not for your dream, I wouldn’t be in this situation. And you won’t  _ help  _ me!”

“Can’t!”

“Won’t!”

_ “ENOUGH.”  _

The two of them shut up and huddled low to the ground. It was a bad idea to mess with Kokko in any case; when she used that tone of voice, only the truly stupid would keep pushing.

_ “Little Hare.”  _

He looked up, not quite meeting Kokko’s eyes.

_ “What did you ask of the fox?”  _

“I...I wanted to become human,” Little Hare mumbled. It was starting to sound stupid the more he said it. “I miss my friend. I thought  _ he— _ ” he nodded at Puppy-Fox, “could help. But he won’t.”

_ “Can’t,”  _ Puppy-Fox said under his breath. Kokko looked at him, and he fell silent.

_ “It’s true that the fox cannot help you,”  _ Kokko said, _ “He lacks that magic. The dog’s early transformations were a product of the dream.”  _

“But—” The dog is human  _ now,  _ Little Hare wanted to say. Outside of the dream. 

_ “But I can help you.”  _

“What?” 

Kokko furled her wings.  _ “Listen.”  _

* * *

There was a boy in the clearing. 

Tuomi stopped dead, fighting the urge to start yelling or turn on his heel and leave. This was  _ his  _ place. It was secret, far away from annoying sisters or whiny so-called friends. He came here to be alone with his thoughts and practice his new kantele where no one could make fun of him. There wasn’t supposed to be someone  _ else  _ here. 

By the time he made up his mind to storm off and find some better secret spot, it was too late. 

“Um, hello?” The other boy looked up from the grass he was braiding. Dark eyes met Tuomi’s gaze from beneath a thatch of pale hair. 

“What are you doing here?” Tuomi asked. So much for running away. “Who are you?”

“I’m, uh…” The boy drew his feet up under him. “What’s your name?”

“I asked you first!” Was this guy stupid? Where had he come from, anyway? Tuomi knew every boring person in his boring village. Why would a random stranger be out here in his woods?

“It’s...I was just…” The boy’s lip was quivering. Was he going to  _ cry?  _ “I’m...Jussi,” he said at last, looking at the ground.

“Jussi, huh?” It wasn’t, like, a  _ terrible  _ name. Why make such a big deal about it? “I’m Tuomi. And you’re in  _ my  _ clearing!” He waved his kantele case for emphasis.

Jussi’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Are you going to play?” He sat up a little straighter.

Tuomi clutched the kantele to his chest. “I  _ was.”  _ That was before this weird stranger showed up.

“Can I stay and listen? Please?” Jussi leaned forward. “I promise I won’t interrupt.”

“Yeah, right,” Tuomi said. His friends were always saying things like that, and they never meant it. “You’ll probably just start chattering as soon as you get bored.”

“I won’t get bored!” Jussi’s mouth set in a stubborn line. “Tuomi. I want to hear you play.”

Tuomi hesitated. This strange boy sounded like he actually meant what he said. But even so...the kantele was still new to him. He hadn’t played it in front of anyone before—unless he counted the hare who sometimes lurked at the edge of the clearing. It was too shy to come close, but that was all right. Tuomi liked to pretend it was actually listening. 

“You  _ promise  _ you won’t interrupt?” 

“I promise!”

“And you won’t make fun of me?” He scowled, daring the newcomer to tease him. Anyone else would.

Jussi scowled back. “Would you just play already?”

“Fine!” Stupid pushy stranger. If he broke his promise, Tuomi would just leave. For now, he settled on the grass and took the kantele from its case. He ran a hand over the smooth wood and fussed with the strings. Then he took a deep breath and started to play. 

Playing kantele wasn’t much like playing guitar. Tuomi hadn’t realized at first how different they would be—he’d just tried the kantele on a whim and fallen in love with the sound. He’d had to learn how it all worked, how to sit and how to hold it and how to make the strings do what he wanted. He’d also learned the hard way that although some of the old people in the village nodded approval when they saw him carrying it, most of the people his own age were not fans. With a guitar, people were always asking him to play this or that song for them. With the kantele...well, they couldn’t do that, and eventually everyone got bored with “all that plinking.”

Good thing Tuomi didn’t care what anyone else thought. He  _ liked  _ the kantele. It made him feel peaceful, like he was floating in a dream. The world was full of annoyances. With music, he could drown them out for a while. And now he had an instrument that he could play just for himself.

He couldn’t help glancing up at Jussi as he played, though. Maybe the guy would get bored and leave; that would save Tuomi the trouble of finding a new spot. But every time he looked, Jussi was still sitting there, watching him intently. At first it made Tuomi nervous. He wasn’t used to having an audience for this. Especially not someone who looked so...interested. Jussi didn’t yawn or check his watch—was he even wearing a watch? His clothes were weird and old-fashioned—and he showed no sign of wanting to leave. At one point he even closed his eyes, and Tuomi thought he might actually be  _ smiling.  _

Who  _ was  _ this guy?

Tuomi played for way longer than he usually did, and Jussi stayed with him the whole time. When his fingers finally got too sore to keep going, he reluctantly set the kantele aside. “Okay, that’s all.”

Jussi opened his eyes. “So soon?” 

“I’ve been playing for hours!” Tuomi held up his stinging fingers. “Look, there’s a new blister.”

“Oh!” Jussi leaned forward and caught the hand to inspect it. “Ouch.” He looked up at Tuomi’s face. “Sorry. I got so caught up in the music, I didn’t realize.”

“Not your fault,” Tuomi grumbled, pulling his hand away. Blisters were part of the learning process. And anyway, he might have been showing off, just a little. He’d never had someone  _ listen  _ like that. Or at least...he didn’t think so. Something about Jussi reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t think who it was.

“Anyway, I gotta go home. Are you staying in the village?” Maybe he was someone’s weird cousin, come for a summer visit to the ass-end of nowhere. 

“Oh, no.” Jussi waved his hand in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest. “I’m...over there.”

“Ah.” Probably a summer house. Some people had them around here, to get away from the city. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around.” He stood up and dusted himself off. 

Jussi smiled. “I’d like that, Tuomi.”

He sounded like he actually meant it.  _ What a weird guy.  _

* * *

Little Hare watched from the edge of the clearing until he was sure Tuomi was gone, then sighed and made his way up the path. It was hard moving through the forest in a human body—humans were so  _ loud— _ but he didn’t want to risk giving away his secret.  _ Not yet.  _ Tuomi didn’t remember him. Who knew how he would react? 

So Little Hare waited until he reached the top of the hill and climbed over the pile of mossy rocks. Then he shook himself hard. His human form flared bright and disappeared; he was a hare again. He took one final look around before slipping back into the spirit world. 

_ “Did you meet him?”  _

Little Hare almost jumped out of his newly-transformed skin. “Ahh! Oh, Kokko. It’s you.” He wiped a paw over his face, trying to settle his fur. “I talked to him.” 

_ “And?”  _

“And...he didn’t recognize me. I don’t think he remembers the dream.” He tried not to let disappointment bleed into his words.

Kokko seemed to notice anyway.  _ “Most humans don’t. Not at first.”  _

“Not...at first? What does that mean?”

Little Hare had never seen Kokko smile—he wasn’t sure she even  _ could— _ but she sounded amused when she said,  _ “Try again tomorrow.”  _ Then she flung herself into the air and disappeared in a swirl of feathers.

“Oh, come on!” Adults never told him  _ anything.  _ With a sigh, Little Hare settled down to wait until morning.

* * *

No matter what Jussi had said, Tuomi left the clearing fully expecting to never see him again. Summer visitors weren’t worth the effort—they came, they acted all friendly, then left again as soon as the days got shorter. Most of the time they formed their own little cliques and spent all summer flirting by the lake. 

So he was startled to find Jussi in the clearing again the next day, looking for all the world like he’d never left.

“You’re back!” Jussi sat up with a smile.

“Why do you sound so surprised?  _ I’m  _ the one who lives here.”

Jussi blinked. “What, in the forest?” He looked around as though searching for Tuomi’s house.

Tuomi snorted. “Don’t be stupid. I meant...summer people usually have better things to do than hang out in the woods.” Honestly  _ Jussi  _ was the one who looked like he lived in the forest. His hair was full of grass and leaves. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Waiting for you.” 

“What?!” 

“I wanted to hear you play again,” Jussi said. Either he was totally oblivious to how weird this conversation was, or he just didn’t care. “Will you?”

Tuomi shook his head and made a big show of brushing grass off his kantele case to give himself time to recover. This weird guy who liked to hang out in the woods actually  _ wanted  _ him to play. He’d been waiting here specifically to see Tuomi. It would have been cool, if Tuomi hadn’t seen enough horror movies to know better.  _ Don’t trust strangers in the woods. That’s how you end up murdered.  _ Then again, nothing exciting like that ever happened in Hokanniemi. Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe Jussi was just a friendly idiot.

“I can’t play as long today,” he said eventually. “I still have that blister. And my bossy sister might come looking for me.” Paju wouldn’t really, she didn’t spend much time in the woods and she always stuck to the path. But this possibly-a-murderer didn’t need to know that.

“Ugh,  _ adults.”  _ Jussi flung himself forward and pillowed his head on his arms. “They’re such a pain.”

“Right?” Tuomi thought about the lecture Paju had given him yesterday when she saw the grass stains on his pants. “It’s like they think we exist to be bossed around.” 

“And they act like we don’t know  _ anything.  _ But we do! We can take care of ourselves.” 

Tuomi nodded. He had been running around in the woods by himself for years—it made no sense that Paju was getting on his case about it now. “So I guess your family gives you a hard time too, huh?”

“Yeah.” Jussi propped his chin on his hands. “Them and everyone else. I’m the youngest, so of course they all think they know better.”

“That sucks.” Even though he only had his mom and his sister, Tuomi knew what that was like. Everyone else in town was quick to jump in and tell him he was too loud, too irresponsible, too immature. “I’m the youngest too.” 

“So you get it.” 

Looking at Jussi, Tuomi couldn’t help feeling like there was something...familiar about him. The way his nose wrinkled when he talked about his family. The way his eyes softened when Tuomi played the kantele. It was like they’d done this before.  _ But that’s stupid. We’ve never met.  _

But maybe...maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe it was possible to become friends like this, after knowing each other for such a short time. It certainly seemed like Jussi wanted to be friends. And Tuomi...well, he was starting to want that, too. 

“Yeah,” he said, “I get it.” He flexed his fingers. The blisters weren’t  _ that  _ bad. “So...are you sure you want me to play?”

Jussi grinned, showing off an impressive pair of front teeth. “Yes!”

“All right.” Tuomi looked down at the kantele to hide his own smile. “Listen.”

* * *

Spring became summer, and Little Hare met Tuomi in the clearing every day. After the first few times, they fell into a routine: Tuomi would play until he couldn’t, then the two of them would talk about nothing and everything. Sometimes they went walking through the forest, with Tuomi showing Little Hare his favorite places and Little Hare pointing out the best plants to eat. A few times they walked all the way into the village to get ice cream or coffee. 

Tuomi had laughed the first time Little Hare tried the dark, bitter drink. “You should see the look on your face!”

Little Hare sulked until Tuomi stopped laughing and got something to sweeten it for him. 

But even with the occasional misunderstanding or hurt feelings, things were good. They spent their days in the leaf-dappled sun, filling the hours with music and conversation. They were best friends. They were together. It was almost like the dream, except this time both of them were awake.

Little Hare should have known it was too good to last.

It started a few days before midsummer. The air was heavy, a blanket of warmth that discouraged them from moving too far. They talked idly, letting long pauses slip in between their words. Tuomi had the kantele balanced on one knee—he wasn’t really playing, just fidgeting with the strings every now and then. His other knee was occupied by Little Hare’s head. 

The first time Little Hare did that, not really thinking, Tuomi had blushed bright red. But now he accepted it as yet another of “Jussi’s” weird quirks. 

“Sometimes,” Tuomi was saying, “This feels...familiar, you know? Like we’ve been doing this forever.”

“Yeah.” Little Hare closed his eyes. At times like this, he thought maybe he could tell Tuomi everything. If he explained, here and now with just the two of them, surely—

A twig snapped.

Little Hare’s eyes flew open. “Who’s there?”

“What?” Tuomi looked up. “I don’t—oh. What are  _ you  _ doing here?” His voice held a scornful note that Little Hare wasn’t used to hearing.

“We were trying to go on a nice quiet walk,” someone said. “But then we heard this horrible plinking sound.”

“Hannu, don’t tease—oh! Who’s your friend, Tuomi?”

Two people came into the clearing. Little Hare felt Tuomi’s leg tense and pushed himself upright. Maybe they hadn’t seen him lying all over Tuomi. Apparently it wasn’t something normal human friends did.

But the newcomers didn’t seem to care about that. And as soon as Little Hare saw them, he forgot all about it too.  _ Oh NO. What are THEY doing here?  _

It was those two, the guy and his dog-who-wasn’t-a-dog. The ones who had ruined the dream, made Tuomi go back to the waking world and forget all about him. They’d messed everything up before, and now they were here to do it again.

“None of your business,” Tuomi said. He turned his back to them. “Come on, just ignore those dumbasses, Jussi.”

“Jussi, is it?” The not-dog clearly wasn’t getting the hint. “Hannu, have I met him? He looks familiar but I don’t...uh...remember.”

“I don’t think it’s your...memory problems...this time, Ville,” Hannu said. He was looking at Little Hare with his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know him either, but he  _ does  _ seem like someone we’ve met before.” He took a step closer. “Is that right, Jussi? Have we?”

Little Hare was getting fed up with these two and their questions. “No! You don’t know me at all. Now go away! Can’t you see that we don’t want you around?”

The dog’s—Ville’s—eyes went wide. “Oh. OH! Hannu, come on. Let’s leave them alone.”

“What? Just because that little brat—”

“Let’s  _ go. _ ” The former dog pulled his human friend away. “I’m getting hungry, can we go home?” 

“You’re  _ always  _ hungry.” But the two of them did leave. Little Hare tried not to squirm as Ville cast one final, knowing look over his shoulder.

“Well that was weird,” Tuomi said. “Why were they so interested in you?”

Little Hare tore up a stalk of grass by the roots and started picking it apart. “I don’t know. Like you said, they’re dumbasses. Coming into  _ our  _ space like they own it.” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid.  _ Those idiots were going to ruin everything.

“Right.” Tuomi looked unconvinced, but he didn’t push it. “Forget about them. I’m gonna play a little longer.”

The music helped, but it couldn’t make Little Hare forget. 

* * *

Tuomi tossed and turned for hours that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the weird moment in the woods. Not Hannu and his dumb roommate—they were always annoying, that was nothing new. But Jussi’s reaction to them had felt...off. Like there was something else going on, and no one was bothering to tell Tuomi about it. 

When he finally fell asleep, the frustration carried over into his dreams.

_ “So did it work? Are you having fun playing with your human?” A fox hung in space, tail streaming light behind him. He was talking to a small, disgruntled-looking hare. _

_ “Shut up, Puppy-Fox,” the hare said. “I’m not ‘playing’ with him, not like YOU play with people. We’re friends!” _

_ “Suuuure. So I guess you’ve told him everything? He remembers meeting you before?” Puppy-Fox danced just out of the hare’s reach. “He knows about your true form, Little Hare? Or...what are you calling yourself down there...? Oh, right. If you’re such good friends, I’m sure he knows all about you. Jussi.” _

_ And then the fox looked directly at Tuomi and winked. _

_ “Stop it! What are you doing?” The hare looked from Puppy-Fox to Tuomi. “He can’t be here! He doesn’t—you’re not allowed to do this!” _

_ “I don’t see anyone stopping me. And anyway, since he’s here, I think your friend and I will have a little chat.” The fox darted over and caught Tuomi by the shoulders. “Bye!” _

_ “Wait!” _

_ It was too late. The fox carried Tuomi off into the stars, leaving the little hare behind.  _

_ “Why...why am I dreaming this?” Tuomi asked when the fox set him down. He’d had weird dreams before, but he usually woke up as soon as he realized it. None of this ‘getting kidnapped by talking animals’ bullshit.  _

_ The fox grinned. “Oh, I just wanted to talk to you. Since Little Hare spends all his time playing humans these days, I thought I would see what all the fuss was about.” He shook himself. Bits of light went flying like fur. “I don’t really understand it though. You’re just a human. What makes you so special?” _

_ Tuomi glared at him. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” He didn’t like this Puppy-Fox who bullied people smaller than him and said strange things about Jussi.  _

_ “No? Let me make it simple for you.” Puppy-Fox sat neatly, tail wrapped around his feet. “Our Little Hare has been going off to the human world every day. He’s been dressing up in a human body and pretending to BE one, all so he can spend time with some guy he met in a dream.” The words tugged at the edge of Tuomi’s awareness. Why did that sound familiar? “And here’s the kicker—that guy doesn’t even remember him! Some friend, right? Build a nice little space in the corner of a dream, promise you’ll stay together forever, play some sappy songs on the kantele—and then BAM! Dream gets disrupted, and the stupid human goes back to being a stupid human. Poor Little Hare was sooooo upset.” _

_ “But what does that have to do with me?”  _

_ “What? Why, everything. Who do you think the human was?” _

_ Tuomi blinked. “What?” That didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. A hazy memory surfaced, sun on water and playing the kantele with—Jussi? It had to be. Who else listened to him play? _

_ “I’m saying,” the fox drew the words out, “that you should ask your friend Jussi where he goes at night. The answer might surprise you.”  _

_ Before Tuomi could reply, there was a sound like great wings beating. The fox flinched. “Oops! Time for you to go, human. Don’t forget what I told you.” He flicked his tail, and Tuomi started to fall. “Remember this!” _

_ The last thing Tuomi saw as he plummeted was a tiny hare, bounding toward him through the sky. “Don’t—please, forget all this, whatever he told you—” _

Tuomi woke up. 

He remembered the dream.

He remembered the hare’s panicked eyes as it leapt to catch him and fell short.

They were Jussi’s eyes.

Tuomi rolled out of bed and reached for his kantele. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

The air in the clearing felt heavy as lead. Little Hare thought maybe a storm was coming. He almost wished one would; it might break the tension that had been building all day. 

He’d half expected that Tuomi wouldn’t come today. There was no telling what Puppy-Fox had said to him at the end of that dream; if Tuomi remembered, he might be too angry to come. If he knew that Little Hare had been keeping secrets from him this whole time, he might not want anything to do with their friendship anymore. Of course, there was always a chance that Tuomi simply wouldn’t remember. He hadn’t remembered the last dream. But there had been moments when Little Hare was sure he remembered  _ something  _ about it. Sometimes the kantele slipped into a pattern that Little Hare recognized. Sometimes Tuomi would stop mid-sentence and frown, like they’d had this conversation before.

So Little Hare was afraid. Even if Tuomi couldn’t remember all the details, the dream would stay with him. Puppy-Fox’s poison words would get under his skin. Trouble was coming.

When he reached the clearing, Tuomi was already there. He didn’t say anything, just nodded and pulled out his kantele. He played; the notes were off, discordant. Little Hare listened in silence, jaw clenched tight around words he didn’t dare say. 

Eventually, Tuomi stopped playing. He still didn’t speak, just set the kantele on the grass and looked up at the sky.

Little Hare couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you...okay?”

Tuomi shook his head. “I just...have a lot to think about.” With that he stretched out on the grass and closed his eyes.

After a moment, Little Hare lay down too. He wished he was brave enough to put his head on Tuomi’s lap, to ask what was wrong and if they could talk about it. Instead, they lay side by side, close enough to touch if one of them reached out. Neither of them did.

It was still early when Tuomi said he had to go. Little Hare didn’t argue with him. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

“Jussi…” Tuomi said, as he reached the edge of the clearing.

“Yes?” Little Hare held his breath.

Tuomi looked at him for a long time. The trees cast shadows over his face; he looked both ancient and terribly young. Then he turned away. “Nothing. See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Conflicted relief surged through him. He would see Tuomi again. But would things always be this way between them?

Heart heavy and head spinning, he walked into the forest to change back.

_ I have to tell him. I can’t tell him! But if I don’t, and he finds out—if Puppy-Fox talks to him again—  _

There was no good answer. Little Hare shook himself, eager to shed his human form. He settled into his proper shape—grey fur, long ears, small enough to hide in a hollow tree or a patch of shadow. He sighed with relief.

Behind him, someone gasped.

Little Hare whirled.

“You—you!” Tuomi’s face was white with shock or rage. “You really are—Jussi?”

“I—” Hares in the human world weren’t supposed to be able to talk. Little Hare remembered that a split second too late.

“Oh my god. You’re actually a hare. Just like in the dream.” 

“I’m—” His heart was pounding. Every instinct screamed at him.  _ Flee.  _

“And all this time—you said you were my  _ friend,  _ you said—you  _ lied  _ to me!”

“I didn’t!” His whole body was vibrating. He couldn’t stand it. Any second his physical form would be gone. “I  _ am  _ your friend!  _ You’re  _ the one who forgot!”

“Me?” Tuomi shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

Bits of him were starting to drift away. His hold on the human world was slipping. “You remembered the second dream. Try to remember the first one. Remember  _ me.”  _ And then he was gone.

* * *

_ Remember the first dream. Remember me.  _ The hare’s words echoed in Tuomi’s head as he pelted down the path. What did that mean? What did any of this mean? His best friend was a shape-shifting hare, his dreams were haunted by meddling foxes—was he going crazy?

_ No.  _ Some deep part of him refused to believe that. Some part of him  _ believed  _ Jussi, even though Jussi hadn’t believed in him. It was like he’d always known this kind of thing could happen—magic and spirits and friendship—but hadn’t let himself think about it. He hadn’t let himself think about a lot of things, before meeting Jussi.

So much of it made sense now. The weird clothes. The way he’d reacted to coffee like it was some kind of miracle. The way his eyes sometimes looked  _ through  _ the world instead of looking at it. Though of course, there were other things it didn’t explain. Why Jussi—Little Hare—had come in the first place. Why he hadn’t trusted Tuomi with the truth. Why Tuomi sometimes found himself thinking of other things: brushing the hair back from Jussi’s forehead, holding his hand when they walked instead of accidentally bumping into each other, finding out if those lips were as soft as they looked. Tuomi admitted, reluctantly, that some of those weren’t really about Jussi’s secrets. They were about his own.

But what was he supposed to do now? Jussi was gone, leaving him with more questions than answers. Maybe it was already too late, and he’d never know. Maybe he’d driven his friend away for good.

_ See you tomorrow? _

_ Tomorrow.  _

But maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he had one more chance to get it right.

* * *

_ “Did you get what you wanted?” _

Little Hare covered his eyes with his paws. “How can you ask that? I didn’t want it to happen like  _ this!”  _

_ “But it did happen. What are you going to do now?” _

“What am I—I don’t know! He found out...well, everything. That I kept this from him. He probably hates me.”

Kokko allowed a weighty pause before she spoke.  _ “Did he say that?”  _

“N-no.”

_ “Then how do you know?”  _

“I…” The truth was, he didn’t know. Not really. Everything had happened so fast, there was no time for either of them to say much of anything. “How could he not hate me? After all this.”

_ “Little Hare.”  _ Kokko’s voice was heavy with patience.  _ “What do you want?”  _

The words  _ I don’t know  _ were on the tip of his tongue. But they weren’t true. “I want my friend back. I don’t want anyone to take him away from me again.” He wanted Tuomi’s friendship more than anything. And he thought...he might want more, if Tuomi wanted it too.

_ “Then go get him.”  _

With Kokko’s magic swirling around him, Little Hare began to run.

* * *

There was a boy in the clearing.

“You came back.”

“I said I would.”

Tuomi dropped his kantele on the grass. His jaw creaked with the effort of holding in all the words he wanted to say. “I didn’t know,” he ground out, “if you would, after that. Jussi.”

Jussi—if that really was his name, flinched. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t  _ want  _ to lie.”

“No?” There it was, the bitterness. No matter how hard he tried, Tuomi couldn’t stop it coming out. That was just how he was. He lashed out, pushed people away. Made them think they had to lie to protect his feelings.  _ I didn’t want to be protected. I wanted to be understood.  _

“No!” Jussi took a step forward. “No. I didn’t. Not to you, Tuomi.” He reached out a hand, hesitated. Kept it just shy of touching. “But I thought—it was better this way. If I had told you the truth from the beginning, would you have believed me?”

“Yes!” Tuomi stepped forward now too, within the range of Jussi’s hand. Jussi leaned away. “I would have believed you! You’re my best friend, I—” He stopped, stymied by the doubt in Jussi’s eyes. Would he really? If Jussi had walked into the clearing claiming to be his best friend from a forgotten dream, would Tuomi have believed? Or would he have laughed and gone on his way? When he added in the whole hare-turned-human thing...well. “I...I want to believe I would have,” he said. “And you...you could have told me later. Once we were friends again.”

“I wanted to.” Jussi’s voice was soft. His hand still hung in the air, close enough to touch. “I wanted to tell you so badly. I wanted you to  _ remember  _ me. You’re my best friend too. I should have told you.” He closed his eyes. “But it all felt so fragile. I can’t even stay human without help. You saw. So I thought—” a deep, shuddering breath, “—if you found out, it would all fall apart.” He opened his eyes and looked straight at Tuomi, jaw set. “And it did.”

Tuomi forced himself to hold Jussi’s gaze. He could see it all reflected there: his own guilt, his failure, every time he hadn’t been good enough. Jussi—Little Hare—had always understood those parts of him. Because he’d felt those things too. It didn’t matter where they came from. At the end of the day, they were the same.

“I let it fall apart,” Tuomi admitted. The words hurt, but some tiny part of him felt better for having said them. “We both messed up. But...we’re here now.” He took another step, and this time Jussi did not flinch from him. “We’re still here. We can fix it.” Slowly, giving Jussi a chance to pull away, he leaned his head forward and rested his cheek against Jussi’s outstretched hand. “We can fix it, Little Hare.”

The hand curved around the side of his face, and another hand came up to join it on the other side. Tuomi looked down into warm grey eyes. Little Hare smiled. 

“You can still call me Jussi, if you want,” he said. And then he stretched up and kissed him.

Tuomi had been kissed once before, at a stupid party with his so-called friends. Someone had convinced them all to play a kissing game, and when it was his turn he’d been too stubborn to refuse. It was wet and weird and he hadn’t enjoyed it.

This kiss wasn’t like that. Jussi’s lips were soft, and he lingered for just the right amount of time before pulling away. It was...nice. 

“Um.” Tuomi realized he was staring like an idiot. “We could do that again sometime. If you want.”

Jussi was blushing. Tuomi wondered if it felt weird having human skin that showed a blush like that. He’d never had fur, so he couldn’t compare it.

“Yeah,” Jussi said. “We should.” He tipped his head to the side, still smiling that little smile. On anyone else it would have looked stupid, but on Jussi, Tuomi liked it. “But first…”

“Yeah?”

Jussi pointed to Tuomi’s discarded kantele. “Will you play for me?”

Afternoon stretched into golden summer evening. The forest hummed with the rustle of leaves and the songs of insects. Over it all, the kantele’s voice floated. The music had no words, but it didn’t need them.


End file.
